Goodbye
by Invisible Sun (invisible_sun@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The characters....
Oh, you people actually read this? Well, in
that case, I don't own any of the characters
in this story. I hope you know who do.
Spoilers: up to the sixth season
Keywords: MSR, Angst, Mulder POV
Rating: G or PG, I'm not good at ratings
Summary: Scully is transferred...
Goodbye
by Invisible Sun
To: f_mulder@fbi.gov
Fm: d_scully@fbi.gov
Subject: I'm sorry...
Mulder,
I'm being transferred. It came as orders
from above. Actually,
it came from 'Them.' Skinner told me he
tried everything to stop it, but I don't
think he did enough. We're not suppose
to have any contact or 'they'll' kill you.
I don't what I'd do if that happened.
I figure that I should tell you my feelings.
You know that's not exactly my speciality.
Nor is it yours.
I love you, Fox William Mulder. I do.
I don't know what I fell in love with first:
your paranoia, your intelligence, your charms,
or your looks. All I know and care about is
that I love you.
Please, don't try and find me. I don't want
you to get hurt.
Love always,
Scully
--- End of Message ---
I stare at it in shock. She's gone. What do I
do without her? How can I keep going? She was
the only reason I kept coming to work and my only
reason for continuing to search.
Suddenly the words finally register in my mind.
She loves me. Dana Katherine Scully loves me, Fox
William Mulder? How can she love a screw-up like me?
Finally, after six years, I find out that I am loved
by the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And she's
gone. Just like everything else in my life.
I look at the time the e-mail was sent. Only thirty
minutes ago. I can still try and catch her.
I jump out of my chair, grab my keys, and rush out the
door.
I reach her apartment in record time: twenty minutes.
Reaching her apartment door, 35, I immediately pounded
on her door.
She didn't answer. Please, let her still be here.
Please. I dug out my keys and opened the door with
the key Scully gave me to use only in cases of extreme
emergency. To me, this is one of those situations.
I open the door and... I'm too late. Damn it, I'm too
late.
Her apartment is bare. Not a single thing is left.
Not even a hair fiber. Every connection I had to
her is gone.
I don't have anything to remind me of her, except
maybe my photographic memory and that will fade
with time. I have nothing.
I lean against the wall and cry. I am alone.
Again.
_____THE_END_____
Feedback? Sure, okay. Reach me at
invisible_sun@hotmail.com